


the things that I hold dear (will always be the things I fear)

by Larsen



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Violence, M/M, help me i have no idea where this is going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larsen/pseuds/Larsen
Summary: [We are not getting into the middle of a domestic abuse situation just for a piece of ass, I swear--]“Shut up, White.”Title based on a poem by Trevor Thompsonhttps://www.poemhunter.com/poems/manipulation/page-1/16943228/





	1. Chapter 1

When Wade started his day missing the lower half of his body, he did not expect it to end with him helping a flirty, drunken twink home. But here he is, one arm wrapped around the guy’s waist and trying very hard to restrain himself every time those pink lips grin his way, or those hazel eyes not-so-subtly check him out, or especially when the hands holding on to him start to roam… 

“Woah kid, slow down,” he chuckles, throat tight. “You don’t wanna wake up to this with a hangover. Is this your building?”

“M’name’s Peter, not kid,” the brunette giggles, before shifting his gaze toward said building and humming in confirmation. Wade takes this chance to subtly check Peter out (as if he hasn’t been doing so all night) but pauses when he spots the beginnings of a bruise on the otherwise perfect neck. It’s covered up as quick as it was revealed when the boy in his arms turns back to him, but not quick enough to quell the worry already apparent on his face.

Peter frowns as well. “Wuz wrong?” He pokes the furrow between Wade’s (nonexistent) brows. “Aw, d’ya miss me already?” He snickers.

But Wade doesn’t laugh with him, instead placing a concerned hand on Peter’s jaw. “Peter… are you sure you want to be in your apartment tonight?” He can see the flirty deflection from a mile away and stops him with a stern look. “I’m serious, will you be safe if I leave you here?” The mirth finally sobers from Peter’s face, and he opens his mouth to respond--

They both jump from the sound of the door slamming open, followed by a slim, built blonde man storming out of it.

“Peter! There you are, where have you been? I’ve been calling you all night!” The man’s look of concern instantly switches to one of suspicion and thinly veiled anger when he spots Wade’s arm around Peter’s waist. “Who is this?”

Wade narrows his eyes, but before he can reply, Peter’s already shrugging his arm off and carefully making his way toward the other man. “Oh, um this is my friend, Wade. Wade, this is Skip, my boyfriend.” Peter’s mumbling at this point, all previous confidence and merriment are subdued at the side of his boyfriend.

Wade sizes the other man up and can tell Skip is doing the same. Satisfied with whatever he observed, Skip wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders and gives Wade a tight grin. “Nice to meet you, Wade, and thanks for walking Peter home but I can take care of him from here. Goodnight,” he says, almost threateningly, before strongarming Peter with him back into the building.

[We are not getting into the middle of a domestic abuse situation just for a piece of ass, I swear--]

“Shut up, White.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, please help me figure out where to go from here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skip is a manipulative piece of sh*t, and the author doesn't know how to replace pronouns with descriptions.

When Peter started his day with a finger up his ass, he wasn't all that surprised when it ended with him running out of the apartment building in tears. Not from Skip's finger; that was normal. Peter had gotten used to 'invasions' like that, learning that it was just Skip's way of expressing his love.

The real reason he found himself with a throbbing neck and wet cheeks was due to the fact that, during one of their routine fights, Skip had shoved him into the doorframe, directly slamming his cervical vertebrae into the wood. (In layman's terms: Ow!) He didn't even remember what they were fighting about, but now Peter found himself in an unfamiliar part of town, confused as to how he got there.

Wiping the dampness from his eyes, he scanned the buildings around him, hoping to find a familiar sign or even street name. Instead, the first thing that caught his eye was an old, dilapidated church that stuck out like a sore thumb in this sketchy neighborhood. Confused, he stepped forward to look closer but jumped when he heard his shoe crunch glass.

 _Oh crap, this is a bar. Skip'll kill me if he finds out I was even near this place._ Skip didn't like Peter drinking anything less than 80-proof unless he was there, much less Peter going into a bar by himself.

Taking another few steps closer, he peeked into one of the grimy windows.  _Well, who cares what Skip thinks?_ Peter thought to himself, gaze unconsciously following a rather broad-shouldered man sat at the bar.  _Besides, I'll just sit in a corner for a while to let him cool down; it's not like I'll be drinking or talking to anyone..._

\---

Four drinks later, Peter found himself leaning against and hitting on the aforementioned broad-shouldered man, giggling and trying to blink his surroundings back into focus.

He laughed when he tripped again, using it as an excuse to grip the other man's bicep with the arm not currently wrapped around the man's forearm. Speaking of 'the man,' Peter realized he hadn't even gotten his name. When he looked up to ask, however, he was distracted by the fact that they were no longer in the dingy, low-lighted bar but walking down a sidewalk instead.

"Huh?" 

Was as about articulate as he was going to get at this point, but the guy seemed to know what he meant.

“I’m walking you home, baby boy, didn’t you hear me the first fifty times?” The man chuckled as Peter blushed, both embarrassed by his apparent forgetfulness and the unexpected but not necessarily disagreeable nickname.

“What’re… how d’you know…” Peter stammered before he was cut off by a hand ruffling his hair.

“I looked in your wallet, for purely chivalrous reasons, I promise.” The man held up his hand in a feigned display of innocence and Peter couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. He leaned further into the broad chest, subtly sliding his hand across it under the guise of regaining his stability.

“Woah, kid, slow down.” Okay, maybe not as subtle as he’d thought.

\---

Peter cringed as the door slammed behind them, avoiding Skip’s eyes. The taller man just tightened his grip around Peter’s shoulders and practically dragged him up the steps to their floor.

Peter was let go when the door of the apartment shut behind them, Skip storming off into the kitchen by himself.  He flinched when he heard the clanging of dishes and rushed into the kitchen after him. “Come on, Skip, don’t worry about those, I’ll take care of it.”

Skip huffed and set down the plates he had been loading. “I just--” He cut himself off with a sigh and leaned against the counter, running a hand through his pale hair. “I’m just so sorry, Peter. It was an accident, I swear. You know how I can’t control my temper, Pete.” Skip buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, Steven…” Peter wrapped his arms around Skip’s head, cradling him to his chest. “I know, I know. How about I finish up in here, then I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Skip looked up and grinned at him, and Peter felt his shoulders relax from the tension they had been holding. Sex always managed to make Skip feel better, and Peter couldn’t wait for all this to blow over.

He watched Skip leave the kitchen and drooped with a sigh, before turning to the barely loaded dishwasher and got to work. At least they didn’t have to wash them by hand anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all y'all's input last chapter! It's given me tons of ideas for how the plot will unravel. Tbh I wasn't gonna continue this because it's sort of a boring premise, but since y'all seemed to like it so much, I'll (try to) finish it!  
> Btw I can't guarantee a regular posting schedule, maybe around once a month?


	3. Chapter 3

[We probably shouldn’t be doing this…]

Wade ignored White, focusing instead on the subject of his binoculars, who was now crouching in a grocery aisle.

{Mm, dat ass.}

[We definitely shouldn’t be doing this.]

{Why does this kid work at a grocery store? He should be a model!}

Wade said nothing at Yellow’s lewd comments but scowled at White (if one can scowl at a voice in their head). “We’re just making sure he’s okay after last night. He was pretty drunk, and I don’t trust that boyfriend of his.” And I don’t like that he has a boyfriend, was what he didn’t say, but since his audience was literally in his head, it didn’t really matter.

[If we’re ‘just making sure he’s okay’ then why have we been following him for the past five hours?]

{Not counting sitting outside his building all night!}

[You shouldn’t sound so proud of that.]

Wade waved his hand over his shoulder, shushing the boxes and directing his attention to the man currently entering the store.

“Skip.” He hissed. Steven Westcott, twenty-eight years of age, currently enrolled in Columbia University and majoring in Sociology. 

He’d had a lot of time last night, okay?

Peter Parker, however, was a grocery store clerk by day and pizza delivery man by night but had studied Biophysics at Columbia before dropping out only six months ago.  _ Maybe that’s where he met Skip.  _ But why would Peter drop out? He seemed to have had perfect grades, nearly a 4.0 average. If he were to make a totally unbiased guess, Wade would say it had something to do with Skip. But why would  _ he  _ want Peter to drop out?

[Does Skip even have a job?]

Wade narrowed his eyes. That would explain a lot; them living together despite their seemingly short relationship, Peter’s multiple jobs despite his obvious intelligence--

{And that delicious figure! Mm.}

Wade’s focus lingered on the brunet’s plump behind before being rudely interrupted by Skip’s hand as it pinched Peter’s ass, who jumped with a yelp. 

[How do you know he yelped? You can’t hear him from here.]

Wade ignored White, instead concentrating on Peter’s still-tense shoulders, which hadn’t relaxed even after he’d realized it was just his boyfriend behind him.

[Maybe he already knew, and that’s why he tensed up in the first place.]

Wade paused, mind turning over this information as Skip led Peter out of the store with an arm around his shoulders.

[I know I brought it up, but what are we even supposed to do with this knowledge? We can't just murder his boyfriend because Peter happens not to like him.]

"It can't just be that he doesn't _ like  _ him, Petey's too sweet for that."

[Oh, so it's  _ Petey  _ now, is it?]

"What are you, British?" 

[Congrats on diverting the conversation. By the way, Peter's left.] 

"What?" Wade turned his attention back to the store to confirm that yes, Peter and his boy-toy had gone without a trace.

[Wouldn't Peter technically be the boytoy in this scenario? And they didn't 'disappear,’ you just weren't paying attention.]

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

{Wait, how is _ Peter  _ the boytoy? He's the one with a job.}

[But he's clearly the attractive one in the relationship and definitely a bottom.]

{Sugar daddies can bottom!}

"How do you even know he's a bottom? He could vers or maybe top exclusively.”

[Oh, please. He's such a twink.]

{And besides, that would be such a waste of ass. Mmm!}

Wade shook his head, rising from his belly-down position on the roof and dusting imaginary dirt off his suit. "Why do I even talk to the two of you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where to go with this; please help me.


End file.
